7000

At 7:18 p.m. from an unknown ISP in North America on Saturday, February 7th, I got my 7000th hit. I wish I could be more specific on the location, but all sitemeter.com gave me was this continent. When that 7000th visitor clicked on my blog, I was deep in the weeds, in one of the busiest happy hours that I could remember.

I got to work and there appeared to be a pub crawl at our establishment. I wish I would’ve paid more attention, because I couldn’t tell if they stayed or left, while others took their place. All I know is that we had the women’s rugby team in for their post-game party. After knocked the ovaries off the visiting team, they came in to drink us out of Bud Light and sing some songs. I’m not sure when it happened, but we got packed. My dear friends, Julie and Mary came in with Julie’s parents and their daughter Sarah. Sarah is four and adorable. She was running around the bar like she owned the place. Sarah and I have a love/hate relationship. The way I see it, she either loves me or hates me. For example, the four of us went to the Grove one night. I hopped in the back seat, wedged between the door and Sarah’s car seat. Her sippy cup holder was putting approximately four hundred pounds of pressure on my right kidney. I was uncomfortable to say the least; and, to top it off, Sarah would have nothing to do with me. I asked her about school, friends, collateralized debt obligations and the impact they would have on the failure of the current economy. Nothing. I wanted to say, “I held you when you were seven hours old while singing ”Kaya“ and this is how you treat me.” But I’m above that. Instead, I mumbled, “Fuck you,” under my breath. Alas, her mommies heard that and I learned a valuable lesson: you don’t say, “Fuck you” to a three and a half year old. In any case, I realized that was all in the past. Sarah and I were besties again. Happy hour was so crazy busy. I sold more in those four hours than I did in the ten hours the night before. The bar business is a funny thing. You never know who’s gonna show up or why.

The rest of the night was good to quite good. It seemed like it was gonna be crazy busy, but then it died. There really weren’t any douche bags of the night. There, of course, were customers displaying my usual pet peeves. Right now my biggest one is when a customer orders drinks, I bring them said cocktails, tell them the price, and they say, “I have a tab.” I just stare at them blankly, like having a tab is the answer. “Oh, you have a tab. Excellent. Congratulations! I have a cold sore that’s dissipating.” Part of it is that I’m into efficiencies. I remember using the Wells Fargo ATM back in college and realizing that I could lessen the number of buttons pressed by one, from ten to nine, and that made my sophomore year. I got a 2.3 G.P.A., but I gamed that money machine like no one’s business. I know that I could just say, “What’s the name on this alleged tab?”, but it’s like someone saying, “I’d like a beer,” I could say, “What kind of beer would you like, generic term using douche bag?”, but instead I say, “What is this a TV show? Are you afraid of product placement, you generic term using douche bag?” So when this woman told me she had a tab, I just stared at her then said, “Do you want me to guess the name?” She told me, I closed out her tab, then she left a goose egg for a tip. I showed her.

I want to take this time to thank all of my readers. I appreciate that you take the time to read my blog, and am thrilled when you tell me how much you like it. It took me twenty-eight days to get from 6000 to 7000, my fastest 1000, yet. If you get a chance, please spread the word. Facebook seems like a great place, so if you get a chance cut and paste:

http://notesonacocktailnapkin.com/

Thank you again for helping me get to 7000.